Always You
by 2sidedstoryteller29995
Summary: It's the day of the NEWT results but grades are the last thing on Hermione's mind. Nominee for the Fanfiction Booker's Prize 2014.


"_So it's now or never isn't it?" Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows_

Hermione paced back and forth across Ron's floor, wringing her hands and wearing a hole in his already threadbare carpet in the process. Ron sat, blending in with the bedspread, watching her. He had lost count of exactly how many times she had paced over and back in the course of the morning. One time too many if the truth be known. He couldn't take it anymore.

'Mione...,' he called softly. She froze. Sure that she heard something Then the noise came again, this time louder and from a different source.

'Hermione!' Mrs Weasley's call meant only one thing. The results had _finally _arrived. All else forgotten she jerked around, flung open Ron's bedroom door and shot down the stairs, her bushy hair flying. Raising his eyes to heaven, Ron followed. He reached the kitchen a minute later. He was surprised to find that when he got there nothing much had changed. Her eyes still looked overly large and fearful, her face still pinched and white. She gripped the envelope in her hand with such intense ferocity that Ron was glad it was an inanimate object. _Otherwise it would be struggling to breathe. _She was the one that was having a hard time breathing at that moment. Short little gasps was all she could manage.

When she saw him, she really looked faint. Instinctively Ron stepped forward to catch her, afraid she might drop to the floor at any moment. Her eyes darted back and forth. They locked with his for a split second. Then she bolted. Ducking around him, she made for the stairs again. Ron sighed, but followed suit. He climbed slowly, upon reaching the fifth floor he paused. On a hunch, rather than turning left towards his room he tried the door in front of him. It was locked. _He could never understand the obsession Hermione had with bathrooms. Bathrooms and libraries. Knowing her she was in there crying her eyes out. _

He sighed exasperatedly. 'Come on Hermione, really? I might not have a NEWT in charms but even I can manage _Alohomora. _Please open the door.' After a moment's pause he heard the sound of a key in the lock. _She had locked herself in with the key? That girl! The things she did. Sometimes you'd swear she had never even heard of magic. _He just hoped she hadn't done anything worse in the heat of the moment. _Like try to flash her results down the toilet. _Thankfully though when she emerged the envelope was still clutched in her hand. Her lower lip was trembling and she looked on the verge of tears.

When she saw him, she managed a small watery smile. She thrust the envelope at him, before disappearing into his bedroom. Thankfully she didn't try to lock him out this time. Ron fumbled with the letter for a second, before following along in her wake; dumbfounded.

When he entered he saw she was curled in a ball on his bed. Noticing his arrival, she made to hop up. He however, waved her back down again. It suited him to remain standing, as he was unsure what to do next. After a moment she whispered, 'open it then.'

Ron couldn't bring himself to do it. Instead he managed to speak. 'I can't. It's yours. It's you. It's always been you.' At this, she broke into a smile. her eyes regaining some of their usual sparkle. She heaved herself to her feet.

Taking the letter from him she muttered, 'useless that's what you are.' Ron could only nod happily. He was glad to see she was feeling a bit better. She was quite right. He was indeed useless_. In comparison to her anyway, what with her brilliant mind, heck- her brilliant _everything. She knew an awful lot, that was for sure. She thought a lot too. Thought a lot of him. She usually teased him for being so clueless, but he could read her like a book. And her tone, for one thing, told him all he needed to know. _She thought he was anything but. _

She turned it over in her palm, examining it, contemplating its contents. Considering what they would mean to her future.

Ron was just glad she seemed more in control. He did not wish to pressure her. 'You don't have to open it now. You can wait for Harry, if you want to.' His tried to keep his voice light, but his eyes portrayed what he was feeling inside. _Harry hadn't even bothered to be here, why should they wait for him? The git. _

* * *

><p>'No,' Hermione whispered. Her voice was distant, but the meaning. <em>No, they shouldn't wait. Harry- who wasn't a git- wouldn't want them to. <em>He was a good friend. Ron just didn't know it to the extent that she did. That morning she had woken up well before dawn, wandering downstairs. On the table, in the kitchen she found a letter with her name on it. At first she thought the owl with the NEWT results had come in the night, but then she recognised Harry's untidy scrawl.

Curious, she opened it to find a note inside.

_Dear Hermione, _

_Good luck today. Professor Mc Gonagall let slip that the NEWT results will be arriving this morning Not that you need luck. You have worked so hard. As you know, it is not just about being in the right place at the right time. Although, I'll admit sometimes it does help. I have a feeling you will get exactly what you want, what you deserve if you just try. Believe in yourself. Take a chance. Seize the opportunity that is staring you in the face. _

_See you later on, at the party. Knowing you we'll have something to celebrate. You truly are brilliant Hermione- and I'm not the only one who thinks so. _

_Love, _

_Harry _

Harry and Ginny had been in London last night for their first date. They had been together since the first anniversary of the Final Battle. Despite, several visits to the castle to see her, this would be their first official date. Harry wanted it to be special. Needless to say, Ottery St Catchpole wouldn't do and neither would the watchful eyes of her older brothers. Less than twenty-four hours ago he had spontaneously announced that they reservations that evening in a restaurant Hermione had recommended. Ron was glad to know that instead of booking them a hotel, Harry had decided that they ought to stay at No 12.

Harry lived there now. Despite the fact that his best friend was taking his little sister home with him, Ron was pleased. There was plenty of room there, so there was no need for them to share a bed. With the added bonus, that he wouldn't dare to try anything on with Ginny, not with possibility that Kreacher could walk in at any moment. That was the plan. However, Harry was thinking more along the lines that would have no problem Flooing to Holyhead. Ginny had been invited to take part in the Harpies' summer training camp. She had thrown herself into Quidditch in the year following Fred's death. There had been a scout at the final Quidditch match of the season. One in which Gryffindor trounced Ravenclaw three hundred points to fifty. A lot of said points having been scored by Ginny. She had been informed of the team's interest in her at the end of the term. All the paperwork was finished now. She was officially a member of the Holyhead Harpies.

The season had of course finished in May, but that didn't mean she couldn't train. It would start again in November. By then she would be a 7th year. Yet she figured she could manage exams and Quidditch. Just like Victor had done. After all, she had more free time on her hands now, what with not needing to try and save the Wizarding World anymore. Anyway, Quidditch had always been what she wanted to do with her life. Harry was very supportive about it.

He was a good boyfriend- the best according to Ginny. Kind, caring, decent responsive, chivalrous, handsome, He was also rather intelligent and more observant than he let on. _Or maybe she was just more obvious than she thought. _This thought made her blush to the roots of her hair, but she brushed it aside. _Harry was a good friend. _

* * *

><p>Her hands were steady. She held it turning it over, examining it, contemplating its contents. She kept her eyes on Ron, breaking the seal of the envelope. She pulled the letter out and the envelope fluttered to the ground. She took a sudden step back, her legs suddenly going weak. Ron lunged for her. Thankfully, when she fell she hit the bed. The bed springs creaked as she made impact. Then there was silence.<p>

Her mouth was a perfect O. Ron moved forward to check she was okay. As he put a hand on her arm, it went slack. The piece of parchment fell and rested on the bed. As Ron's eyes travelled down the page, his smile grew wide. After a moment he muttered. 'I don't know why you're so shocked- I never expected there to be anything less. You're brilliant. Bloody brilliant.'

Hermione could feel herself going pink with pleasure as he spoke. She inclined her head in thanks. They sat in awed silence for a little while. Then, taking a deep breath Hermione reached out, her hand brushing against Ron's. He was surprised when he realised what she wanted. He instantly released the letter he hadn't realised he was still holding. With it in hand she rose and went to the opposite side of the room.

Ron was watching her with a confused expression on his face. _Maybe he was wrong. Hadn't he been wrong many times before? Maybe she didn't want what he thought_ _did. _He was brought back down to earth by the realisation that it was suddenly very warm in the cramped space. Then the smell of acrid smoke reached his nostrils. He leapt up startled. Hermione still had her back to him. Flames were being emitted from her wand, slowly burning the parchment suspended in the air to a crisp.

It was no accident. She had arranged it so the ashes would fall neatly into the wastepaper basket. Of all the things she had done that day, this was the one that scared Ron the most. However, when she met his gaze, he knew she was okay. Better than okay. _He had always admitted to liking the flames that she made. _However, it was then he realised that he also loved the ones that danced in her eyes. The ones which signalled to him that she was so much more that the bookish know-it-all he met on the Hogwarts Express.

She was alive.

He watched spellbound until the last shred of paper had disintegrated. Eventually, he got the words out. 'What did you do that for?' She was back to herself. Giving him a look as though to say _isn't it obvious?_ No, he did not think it was obvious. This was Hermione Granger, the woman who had always had more respect for books than she did some Slytherins. He could not fathom her logic.

'Starting again. Rewriting the script.'

Ron's face was still the picture of confusion.

'I'm sorry it was so dramatic,' she smiled ruefully.

The Battle of Hogwarts had been a drama. The aftermath had been a drama. They kissed that night in the Chamber. Ron had even gone as far as to use the word 'girlfriend.' However, they had somehow made the mutual decision to put their romance on hold for a while, in favour of friendship. They needed each other. Hermione needed to finish her education. They had waited. Then after she left Hogwarts at the end of the summer, they waited some more. For, as before, the right moment never seemed to present itself.

'I just didn't want to don't want to do it anymore,' She looked him right in the eyes and he knew exactly what he wanted to do, for the rest of his life.

'I don't want to be part of the trio anymore. I want to be more than just Harry's best friend. I want to be more than friends with you. _You. _I need you to be the leading man. I want you to be my leading man,' She looked down, tears sliding down her nose.

'I'm not going to pretend otherwise any longer. I love you Ron.'

'Hermione- I.' Try though he might he couldn't find the right words.

'I've loved you since before I can remember...' This admission brought a smile to her lips, brighter than any he had ever seen.

'Well, that's not much of a compliment considering you can't remember what you had for breakfast.' She was _lovingly _teasing him. Putting him at ease. It was her way of saying that she had always loved him too. Would always love him. No matter how many birthdays or anniversaries he forgot. No matter what he said. She would always love him. She knew what he meant. She knew what he meant because she felt the same.

'Yeah well at least I can remember _who _I had breakfast with.' She was the one. The one he _hadn't _eaten breakfast for. Acting in solidarity with his best friend who couldn't bring herself to look at food because of how nervous she was. He had, however, tried to get her to eat. She had brought a slice of dry toast outside with her. It was reduced to a trail of breadcrumbs by the end of their time in the orchard that morning. Unable to stomach putting it in her mouth she tore it to shreds; Just to distract herself. Ron had wanted to do many things that morning. To take her hand in his and hold it until it no longer trembled. To feast on his mother's beacon and eggs, their joined hands stretched across the breakfast table. Yet, he restrained himself for her sake.

This was his way of saying that there was no one in the world he would rather have breakfast with, ever.

As he spoke, his stomach gave an audible growl. 'Will you come out to lunch with me? You know, to celebrate?'

She somehow managed to keep her face straight long enough to ask. 'What's the occasion?'

He was bashful, but pleased. 'To celebrate that Hermione Granger agreed to come out to lunch with me.'

Her words told him she there was no-one she would like to do that with more. Her lips told him there was nothing she wouldn't love to do with him. Nothing he could say or do would ever change that.


End file.
